


The Question Mark Atop Your Spine (Mine and Ours)

by SilverBird13



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hair-pulling, Javert doesn't appreciate your musical choices, M/M, Or attempted one, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, is this d/s, striptease, we just don't know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 19:19:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverBird13/pseuds/SilverBird13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Javert slapped his palm to his head in frustration, and Valjean cringed.  'Valjean, breaking into my room and  blasting a song called ‘Cocaine’ isn’t what anyone but you would consider romantic.  Please, explain your reasoning.'"<br/>(More of the College AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Question Mark Atop Your Spine (Mine and Ours)

In college, Jean Valjean knew, surprises usually weren’t fun (like that time Clement had kissed him and then burst into tears, or when Fantine had been asked out by that skeevy business professor and gotten called to the dean’s for kicking him in the balls.).  This didn’t mean, however, that Valjean didn’t like surprising others.  
  
Thus, here he was, stripped to an old black tank top and idiotic star boxers Fantine had given him as a birthday gift and lying on Javert’s bed, Eric Clapton beginning a slow, sexy riff over a pair of speakers.  
  
Javert had had a long week, he knew.  Valjean’s midterms were thankfully over as of last Thursday, but Javert’s had begun this week and dragged him through a hell of constellations, classifications, and calculations that would have sent weaker men home crying.  
  
 Really, he deserved a nice blowjob or something, at the very least.  
  
Valjean started as he heard a key in the door, and he nervously ran his fingers through his bangs and bit his lip in an attempt at sexiness.  _Here we go..._  
  
The wide eyes and slight grimace on Javert’s face didn’t exactly help his nerves.  
  
“Wait, how did you manage to get into my room?  I lock it, for God’s sake!”  
  
Valjean felt the prickle of sweat beginning on his neck, and knew his face had contorted into a (likely unsexy) grimace.   
  
“Well,” he started, pursing his lips into a semblance of a pout, “I thought I’d try something different, Javert.  A surprise.”  
  
Javert slapped a palm to his head in frustration, and Valjean cringed.  “Valjean, breaking into my room and  blasting a song called ‘Cocaine’ isn’t what anyone but you would consider romantic.  Please, explain your reasoning.”  
  
Valjean, whose head had been flopped over in despair only moments ago immediately perked up, sensing a second chance.  He hopped off the bed and walked over to Javert, crossing the small room sooner than his nerves would have liked.  
  
“My plan was to lie on your bed and wait for you to come in,” he began, reaching up and tucking a stray lock of Javert’s short hair behind his ear, “and to have you be surprised,” he continued, pressing a kiss to his neck, “And, you know, like the ambience,” he more or less mumbled against the other man’s skin.  
  
Javert let out a low chuckle, letting his erection gently bump Valjean’s hip as he spoke.  “Well, you did surprise me.  Now go turn off that damn music and continue.”  
  
******  
  
After Valjean had fiddled with his old Ipod for a good 5 minutes, Javert found himself being half-carried to his own bed, back pressed against the wall.  
  
“Aren’t you going to continue now that I’ve improved your _ambience_?”  Javert whispered to the man currently nuzzling his neck as he squeezed Javert’s cock through his jeans.  
  
“Well, after you had complimented my song choice, I’d strip for you,” Valjean whispered, tongue barely wetting the shell of Javert’s ear as he pulled away, “Would you like that?”  
  
Javert let out a stifled whimper at the suggestion, and Valjean grinned through his awkwardness as he stood up and forced himself to look Javert in the eye, pulling off his tank and blushing surely more than could be considered attractive.  A sharp intake of breath from the man on the bed and a flush rising in his cheeks to match Valjean’s own (not to mention the sizable tent of Javert’s pants and _good God, what would that feel like in his mouth or-oh..._ ) made Valjean practically come on the spot.  
  
“Should I put on some Def Leppard to keep with the theme?”  Javert remarked, breaking the silence.  The husky arousal in his voice was hardly helping Valjean keep his composure, and he felt himself squirm as he gave up and fairly ripped off his boxers, letting the cool air wash over his slightly leaking cock as he pulled Javert forward and wordlessly unbuckled his pants.  Javert let out a pleased grunt at the action, and instinctively thrust his hips up, letting Valjean take a good look at the man before him.  
  
Javert was not a small man in any way, and Valjean delighted in it.  He loved the feeling of big hands running down his belly, the prod of the thick cock against his own, the warmth of the tall man’s thighs around his hips as they ground themselves together each night in Javert’s bed.  For all the, well, _private time_ they’d spent together the last few weeks, however, the subject of oral sex hadn’t been broached.   
  
If this was Valjean’s time in charge, he sure as Hell was going to address it _very_ thoroughly.  
  
Valjean knelt before him, remembering to keep eye contact (Javert always liked that for some reason), and whetted his lips at the sight in front of him before taking the head of the cock between his rosy lips.  
  
“J-Jean,”  Javert moaned as he thrust upwards, and Valjean found it impossible not to reach down and take himself in hand, stroking roughly and knowing this would be over sooner than he’d like.  He continued to suck at Javert and flick his tongue around the slit and edges, not confident enough in his skills to take more without gagging (and he doubted Javert had a vomiting fetish).  He used his free hand to stroke lightly at the thick hair surrounding the man’s cock and to brush against his balls, breathing in the heady scent even as his mouth soured slightly with Javert’s precome.  Valjean hummed his approval anyways at the taste, and loosened his lips until his mouth was free again, an idea having struck him.  Javert moaned low and heady at the loss of contact, and was quick to voice his disapproval.  
  
“G-God, Jean, no, keep-keep going,” he said raggedly, and Valjean felt himself finally course towards his peak in earnest.  
  
He grabbed Javert’s hands away from the mussed comforter, and placed them at the nape of his neck where his hair hung in it’s messy cut.  
  
“Make me,” he whispered, biting at his plump lip.  
  
The feeling of Javert’s hands tightening around him, first pushing him onto his cock and then pulling back to keep him from choking was more than Valjean could bear.  He let go, spilling into his hand and onto the tile beneath him as he hummed into the other man’s cock.  Javert came soon after, stroking the hair back from Valjean’s face and thumbing his cheek as he rode it out, little grunts and the cry of his name better to the other man than any song he could’ve had playing in the background.  
  
 The two wasted no time in crawling properly onto the bed, Valjean silently cursing ResLife (as usual) for not letting them smoke in the dorms.  He curled against the wall and let Javert (who still remained, unfortunately, fully clothed) stretch out on his back beside him, smiling as he wrapped one arm protectively around the shorter man and leaned in for a soft kiss.  The thought that Javert might be able to taste himself on Valjean’s lips made his cock twitch again, but he contented himself with knowing it was only mid-afternoon, and that they’d surely need a long shower to ready themselves for dinner....  
  
Javert broke away first and reached up to toy with Valjean’s hair.  “Dear God, I never thought I’d appreciate it,” he mused, smirking.  “All I usually want to do is comb it out of your face.”  
  
Valjean chucked low in his throat, eyes growing hazy with sleep.  “You know you like it,” he mumbled, curling further into the taller man and letting his head rest over Javert’s heart, grinning as he continued to stroke at Valjean's hair.  
  
“Jean, I think you deserve a surprise yourself for this,”  Javert said sweetly, pulling Valjean up so his temple rested against the taller man’s forehead.  
  
“Mmm, whatever you like, Javert.  Wake me up in an hour,” he mumbled as he felt Javert press his lips below his jaw in a kiss.  
  
Fantine would later tell him the 5 Euros she spent on the boxers had been worth it to see Valjean struggle to apply her concealer as he cursed Javert and blushed in turn, the mark on his neck one constellation he hoped the man had misclassed on his exams.


End file.
